


Lazy Days

by xgoingdownx



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Domesticity, F/M, Fluff, Hair Braiding, lazy day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 12:04:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17601020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xgoingdownx/pseuds/xgoingdownx
Summary: a day off consists of you being lazy with Roger, and taking the opportunity to braid his hair





	Lazy Days

It wasn’t too often you had a day alone with Roger anymore. Touring and recording took over a lot of his time, and when it wasn’t that, you were working. So how exactly were you spending this day off? Laying in bed, of course. Roger tended to sleep in much more than you did, so at first you were just watching him, admiring the way his bare chest moved as he breathed and his long blonde hair scattered across the pillow. He began to stir around eleven in the morning, earlier than usual on a day when he could afford to sleep until one in the afternoon. He groaned as he stretched his arms above his head, his body tensing up below the blanket.

“Good morning, sleepyhead” you teased, inching closer to him.

“Morning..” he yawned, rubbing his hands over his face.

He pulled you close, placing a rough hand across your back while the other held your waist. You were both only partially clothed from last night and the warmth of his skin against your own made you shiver. You put your hand on his stomach and laid your head on his chest, enjoying the quiet of the morning while listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“What’s on the agenda today?” he asked groggily.

“Mm, I thought we’d stay in. It’s not often you’re home, so I want to spend it with you- no distractions.”

“I like the sound of that,” he hummed, his chest vibrating as he spoke.

As the two of you laid there he occasionally would raise his hand to pet your hair as you drew slow shapes against his skin with your fingertips. But Roger couldn’t stay there for long, being as fidgety as he was, once he was awake he needed to be fussing with something. You could feel him getting bored as he started tapping his fingers to an inaudible beat that he was no doubt conjuring up in his head. You pressed a kiss to his chest and pushed away from him, slowly rising out of bed and announcing that you were going to get dressed and fix something to eat. He followed your lead, getting dressed and softly making his way to the kitchen to start some coffee.

After breakfast the two of you settled into the couch, Roger reading the newspaper while you turned the television on. You flipped to something mindless, mostly to put on background noise and sat against the armrest of the couch. Roger would read whatever piqued his interest out loud to you, occasionally scoffing in disgust or laughing as he read. Your fingers toyed with a loose string from your shirt as you watched him. He caught you staring right as he was putting the paper away.

“What?” He questioned as he turned to face you.

“Mm, I was just thinking about how I’d like to braid your hair,” you spoke wistfully.

He frowned for a moment, caught off guard by your odd comment. He ran his hand through his hair before saying, “Well why don’t you?”

You left to get a brush and upon returning Roger was seated on the floor in front of the couch. He had a notebook and a pencil in his hand, tapping out something and scribbling down what you assumed were lyrics onto the paper. You sat behind him cross-legged on the couch and began brushing his wild hair. Each time you hit a snag he’d quietly reply with an “ow”, prompting you to massage the spot and apologize. Once you had finished getting any tangles out, you set about spreading small braids throughout his hair.

You left small loose plaits here and there, trying to keep from making a pattern so it would look a little messier. He sat patiently while you did all of this, still scribbling down notes and occasionally humming something to himself. You scratched at his scalp and kissed the top of his head once you finished with him.

“Did you make me pretty, love?” he turned to ask, smiling up at you.

“You’re always pretty, Rog. There’s not much more I could do to improve that,” you laughed, giving him a kiss on his forehead.

He got up off the floor and laid his notebook beside you on the couch, heading to the bathroom to admire your work. He emerged a moment later, grinning and sauntering towards you, striking a pose when he got into the living room.

“You’ve outdone yourself, darling, I think you should do my hair all the time,” he gushed, clearly putting on a show.

He pulled you up off the couch, dramatically twirling you around before catching you in his arms and dipping you. You giggled at him as he pulled you up against his chest. His eyes were full of mischief and coupled with the hairstyle you gave him earlier, he resembled some sort of beautiful elf- all he was missing was a flower crown.

“I think this look suits you,” you smile, resting a hand on his chest.

He kissed your forehead and asked, “You really think so?”

You hummed, nodding up at him. “You look quite beautiful like this.”

“Not as beautiful as you, love.”

The afternoon wore away into the evening, the pair of you hardly moving from the couch, occupying yourselves with things like making snide comments at the tv or trying to solve the daily crossword puzzle in the newspaper. Roger left the braids alone all afternoon, occasionally taking one between his fingers to play with while lost in thought. You knew by the end of the day when you took them out his hair would have loose waves, a look you really loved on him. It made him look a little more feminine, which he wasn’t particularly fond of, but at the same time he didn’t mind because you liked it so much.

That night when you undid your earlier work, you curled a few strands around your fingers, watching them bounce when you let go. You briefly considered curling his hair before he spoke up, “Hey, I don’t mind if you do this,” he gestured to his waves, “but don’t even think of giving me Brian’s poodle ‘do.”

You snickered at his comment and shook your head, “I think it would take more curlers than I have to do that, Rog.”

You enjoyed the last few moments of your lazy day with him, quiet and calm, knowing that things would be back to a whirlwind of touring and recording soon. These were the moments you loved the most, though, when he was all yours, no distractions.


End file.
